If anything, right then and right there would've been one of the best times to hit a dog. If Reese was to hit a dog, which he just did five minutes ago, it would've been best to do it either near the original owner, or near a vet's place; both of which were nearby.
He knew that the owner was close thanks to the dog's name tag. After copying down the cell number into his phone, Reese shuffled the injured dog into his - or, really, his mother's - minivan. He could hear the dog's whimper, which both hit him in the heart and relieved him of his fear from any murder charges on his hands.
For some reason, death had been stalking him like a rabid fan for quite a large portion of his life.Fortunately, he knew that they almost always failed to get near him. As in, more misses than hits.
He knew that texting and driving wasn't the best thing to do, but he also knew that killing someone's dog was way worse, so he texted the new number with a quick message.
"Just hit your dog Hes at the vet place downtown Sorry"
This was the best he could do right now. He stopped the car abruptly, bruising his elbow and sliding the dog forward. He strained to remember the dog's name.
"Err... Harley? Harley, we're here!"
As he pulled to the front, he could see the faint imprint the dog had left in the back seat. Panicked, he gently picked up... Harley? Harley.
The vets inside were caught off guard by the random teen busting in with a freshly dying dog in his arms. The main surgical vet was almost off the clock, but he was called in at the last minute. Dr. Kandinsky reluctantly obliged.
Another teen came through the doors about twenty minutes later asking about a "Harley". Reese pulled him aside, but the teen shook him off as he was putting two and two together.
"He better fucking live."
Silence echoed in the main office loudly. Reese wasn't in the mood to argue with the other teen in the building. The other teen needed time to cool off. After all, Reese did try to fix his mistake.
Dr. Kandinsky threw the silence on the ground, splintering the concrete floor with invisible glass of air.
"So, Mr. Gregory, the bad news is that we need to operate quickly. Harley's broken a rib and a leg, so I can get in there and, quite literally, straighten things out. That's the good news."
Reese added " So, he'll be okay?" and Kandinsky nodded. Before the doctor could leave the room, Gregory turned him back around.
"Why the hell was he bleeding?"
"Those were minor injuries that can be easily fixed and bandaged. You'd bleed as well if someone smacked you in the body with the force of a car."
Kandinsky started to walk back before he turned and said " I'll come back in an hour!"
Silence engulfed the territory, taking it back for itself, in a more malleable state.
"If you want," Reese spoke, "I can take the full cost of whatever they're doing off of your hands --"
"What the fuck were you doing, anyway!?"
Caught off guard, Reese took the defensive.
"Oh, yeah? A black dog with no white fur walking around with no owner or leash in sight is totally visible in the middle of the night! I made an offer to help your dog out, and I brought him here, so don't go painting me like a villain."
Reese sighed " I get that too much from everyone else."
Greg looked over at Reese in guilt " Look, I'm gonna try to thank you for what you've done so far. I don't need you to hit your wallet as hard as you hit my dog, alright?"
They both smirked at each other from the small joke.
Greg checked his phone and saw the myriad of texts from his father.
"Hey"
"Where r u???"
"3rd times a charm!"
"Did u silence your phone??"
He saw another message appear as he was reading.
"Gonna call you"
Greg answered his phone with a cold "Yeah?"
"Hey, Greg, my monitor says you're at the vet's office. Is everything good? Did Harley get sick or something?"
Greg took a breath and gave a short synopsis. His father gasped and said that he could be there in an hour, but Greg explained that it would've been over by then. His father took his jacket back off and sat back at his desk.
The hour passed slowly, but it did come to pass. Kandinsky walked out smirking.
"It's going to take about a month to heal, but Harley's all patched up. I tried to give him some wiggle room, with all the casts he's in, so he should be fine. No major injuries."
A nurse rolled in a cage on some dolly, and Kandinsky knelt down.
"You're a lucky dog, yes you are!"
Greg was satisfied, and decided to not hold this against Reese. They both went their separate ways, for now.
The dog died of a pulmonary disease about three months later.
This is the fundamental force of nature. The force of time gently nudges everyone to their end, whether it's comedic or tragic. Even when one speaks, one would form verbs into a certain time tense, because the force of time is merely a part of the human condition. No person has a stronger kiss of death than Father Time.
Comments (0)
See all